


The Reason Why

by RoyalVioli (PunnyPrincess)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, ah this is going to be very angsty in the beginning, angst with a sad ending too, because apparently i'm a sucker for writing for the sociopaths, lol, minimal adrinette, sorry - Freeform, this is from gabriel's pov, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23761618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunnyPrincess/pseuds/RoyalVioli
Summary: Gabriel Agreste's lived long enough to see himself become the villain. He'd started out disillusioned, thought that "love" would conquer all, clung to dreams and ideas... and in the midst of his fairy-tales, Emilie had died.So yes, he turned to villainy--if one had to label it, he rather preferred the term "chaotic-neutral". Yes, he had Akumatized thousands, "controlled" them, some might phrase it. It was somewhat of an achievement that he'd lasted this long, actually, but his time was up--he'd have to face his sentence.And how better to ignore the walls of his cell, than to remember how it all began?
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Emilie Agreste & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Emilie Agreste/Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth
Kudos: 6





	The Reason Why

The girl looks at him from her place on the witness stand, her eyes shimmering with tears. Even without the powers of his brooch, he can feel the vibrating emotion; strong, on the brim of anger. Unable to hold back any longer, tears drip down her face: a blatant show of weakness.

“... I’ve spent the last couple of decades at the other end of his cruelty. I've seen so many different people fall under his influence--I mean, he's used the emotions of others for his advantage so many times... the count is in the thousands at this point..."

"Do you think Monsieur Agreste is responsible for the victims' actions?" Mr. Derham asks, tilting his head to the side. 

"It wasn't not the victims' fault, that's for sure," Ladybug says bitterly, and he notes the practiced tone to her voice. "He forced them to do this, gave them no choice in the matter, really, considering how his manipulation works. It doesn't matter whether they were angry or dejected in the moment, those kinds of emotions would never lead to that kind of terror or destruction without him. He uses magic to manipulate them to do his bidding, they have practically no say in the matter."

"How do the Akuma victims typically react, afterwards?" 

"Once they realize what they've done... I mean, I've seen so many depressed, scared of what they’d done..." _Oh, yes,_ he thinks, _pause for the audience's sympathy, won't you?_

"...There have been times they've just, been forever scarred. I mean, there's a reason there are therapy groups for this sort of thing--it can really impact them. Just... their tears, their doubt, their cries— Oh, Monsieur Agreste, do- do you have any excuse for your actions?” 

At this, the heroine gazed at him sadly, obviously appealing to the jury’s remorse. “Any reason at all?”

He keeps his gaze void of any telltale emotion, his stare empty. His lawyer lifts his hand, weakly. "Your Honor, the witness cannot question the defendant."

The judge only nods. "Regardless of the circumstances, please try to maintain decorum." His voice is flat, robotic, only following through the motions.

Gabriel tries not to grit his teeth. The emotions across the room seem to haunt him, so overwhelming... _if only I_ _..._ he begins to think, but stops himself. 

"I have no further questions," Mr. Derham says, a wisp of a smile on her face. 

Another tear falls from the girl’s cheek, and she exits the stand. 

There would be no more witnesses after her—Adrien lacked the strength to testify, that had been shown by his visit the previous night, pleading eyes matching his voice as he asked for justification for an apparent “betrayal” (a clear misuse of the threat, not that the boy could be expected to understand. He’d always been m blinded by heroics.)

The judge called for closing, the prosecution would start. 

Mademoiselle Bourgeois had originally claimed his pity, forced to disregard her assets due to her father’s removal from office, but her decision to take up pro bono work afterwards left him wary. Chloé leading the case against him only made him certain; she was flawed in her hubris.

Nevertheless, her confident stride—no doubt a result of her modeling days—would not elude his judgment, though her delivery was clearly too personal to be considered… pragmatic. 

She finished with a mournful nod before taking her seat. Mr. Derham, whose defense had been lamentable at best, stood up and gave the typical pity plea, reminding the audience of his presumed-to-be deceased wife.

The defense rested and the room drew silent. Gabriel closed his eyes, imagining the rays of emotion throughout the room, the anticipation and fear echoing from every corner. The second hand on the clock seemed to move at the slowest of speeds.

The whispers of the audience, up to this point merely background noise, grew louder. And then, just as suddenly, it drew quiet. The jury had re-entered. Unusually quick, but it was to be expected.

A member nodded their head, and strode up to the judge’s stand, letting their decision known.

There was no point in listening further--he would be imprisoned; the trial was simply a legal compliance.

Finally, the verdict was spoken out loud, the judge’s voice echoing around the courtroom as he gave the sentence. Curious eyes were on Gabriel once more, but he would not allow them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Escorts forced him off of the stiff wooden bench he’d occupied for the last couple of weeks. They kept composure, carrying their body index in what he supposed could be an intimidating way. 

They lead him down the carpeted aisle and he feels the hatred in the stares as he walks by. At last, the doors close behind him; a well-oiled thud creating a dramatic exit.

One last show for the press.

——

Walls turn from ornately decorated and eloquent into barely-funded aluminum as he enters the bus. The ride seems timeless, and soon enough, he’s inside the maze of the prison system. The escorts grip tightly on his arms -- pointless, escape being the thought furthest from his mind. 

He passes cells, their size and amount of occupants steadily decreasing the deeper he ventures. The journey is not entirely silent, prisoners whisper and yell as he walks by, and every so often an underfunded overhead light sizzles. 

This would be the overly dramatized walk of doom to most, but he only feels slight impatience. The shackles that decorate his wrists itch, leaving irritated skin. 

Eventually the corridor sharpens into menacing steel doors and small food slots. Numbers adorn every cell, though his vision blurs them. 

The escorts suddenly halt. His shackles are removed, and he’s thrust into a cell. He examines the room’s entirety before settling in on the bed. Stiff, as expected. 

He massages his wrists, surveying the damage. He lays back on the mattress, studying the ceiling. 

Pale tan, a contrast from the grays of his previous holding cell. His right hand glides halfway to his neck before he stops it. The cool feel of the broach was taken away weeks ago, he reminds himself.

He feels no loss, not for his miraculous. The kwami brought no comfort to him, only ever pled for release. The broach itself was simply jewelry, compared easily to a watch one wore habitually. 

His mind wanders to her, instead. _How long…?_

Weeks. It had been weeks since he last saw her. 

A sunny Wednesday. She was beautiful as ever, her smile glowing even in her comatose state.

Her viridescent eyes had glimmered, prompted him to repeat the promise he’d made to her every day since… since it all started. 

He had broken his promise. 

His one vow.

To his one love.

This was the end of his story.

He closed his eyes, remembering the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated! Grammatical corrections, particularly, :).
> 
> Fair warning, I used an American version of the legal process--was too lazy to research the French version of the justice system (sorry).

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to give feedback! Any grammatical advice is appreciated.


End file.
